


A Jumper for John

by jacksqueen16



Series: These Worthy Wounds [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Christmas, Fluff, Gen, Gift Giving, I Don't Even Know, John's Jumpers, Knitting, Sherlock gets creative, Winter, established relationship if you squint, knitting fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-25
Updated: 2015-01-25
Packaged: 2018-03-09 02:01:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3232073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jacksqueen16/pseuds/jacksqueen16
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Sherlock approaches knitting scientifically.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Jumper for John

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thecollective](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thecollective/gifts).



> Unbeta'd. All mistakes are mine! 
> 
> This is a piece I promised the Collectress for the holidays. Happy Belated Christmas!

Dr. John Watson liked jumpers. This was as basic a fact about John as anything else—John liked tea. John liked James Bond movies. John liked Sherlock. John liked jumpers. Why didn't this woman understand that?

"I'm sorry, sir, we don't have any jumpers with the periodic table on them," the saleswoman said. "Is there anything else I can assist you with?"

"With which I can assist you," Sherlock muttered under his breath before giving her what Mummy had called his _out of doors smile_. "No, thank you," he said, turning away. His coat billowed out behind him as he left the shop on Oxford street.

Shoving his hands deep into his pockets, he surveyed the people bustling past. Most were out doing Christmas shopping. Obvious. Tedious. Dull.

Sherlock hailed a cab with a wave of his hand. Settling into the backseat, he wrapped the Belstaff closer around him, (only just) resisting the urge to curl up and sulk. He had never imagined that he would someday become one of those obvious, tedious, dull people, searching for a relatively meaningless gift for someone else. But then John had limped into his life and shot a cabbie for him, and Sherlock Holmes found himself rethinking sentiment.

Heaving a sigh, Sherlock pulled his mobile from his pocket and opened his internet browser. There was only one solution to his current problem, and he would approach it the best way he knew how. It was only logical. The scientific method had led him unfailingly thus far.

 **Question:** What do I get John for Christmas?

 **Research:** Ask John why he likes jumpers so much although the answer is obvious. Deduced long ago that he feels a strong connection to his grandmother who used to knit things for him as a child before arthritis stole her dexterity and Alzheimers robbed her mind.

 **Construct Hypothesis:** John will appreciate a jumper for Christmas. He believes that I am thoughtless and will not get him anything, and will therefore be pleasantly surprised by the gift.

 **Test with an Experiment:** Confiscate one of John’s favourite jumpers to view emotional reaction to missing objects. It is an ugly Christmas jumper from an ex girlfriend portraying the vitruvian man wearing a Santa hat. Cheap and tasteless.

 **Procedure working?:** Yes. John is upset. Does not make tea for anyone besides himself for two days until jumper is returned.

 **Analyze Data and Draw Conclusions:** John not only likes jumpers, but ones that are silly and inconsequential. He values things from different people, even those who may have left his life under less than pleasurable circumstances. John particularly appreciates jumpers given as gifts.

 **Results Align or Do Not Align with Hypothesis:** Results align. Find John a jumper.

 **Communicate Results:** Once jumper is located and purchased, ask Mrs. Hudson to wrap it. Place under Christmas tree.

Yes, it was obvious. If none of the shops in London would help him, then Sherlock would do it himself. He was a scientist, a chemist, the world’s only consulting detective. How difficult could it be? He typed swiftly, and began sorting through Google’s 101,000,000 results on “how to knit.”

#

If Sherlock had known beforehand that there were so many variables involved in the creation of one knitted jumper, he might have considered an alternate gift. But by the time he realized that one had to choose between natural or synthetic fiber, select a color, settle on yarn thickness, and decide which type of knitting needle would be best for the job, he was invested to the point of no return. His visit to the nearest HobbyCraft was illuminating, thanks to the aid of a saleswoman who bore a remarkable resemblance to Mummy, and who answered each of his questions more thoroughly than he could have anticipated.

He used the time in between cases—the time when he would usually yell at the telly or sulk on the sofa—to work on John’s gift. Although the light in his bedroom wasn’t as good as the light in the lounge, he dared not bring the project out into the open until it was perfect and completed. Although he knew perfectly well that John would not be able to discern the small traces of yarn that would undoubtedly be left behind on the sofa, there was an element of adrenaline involved in the secret keeping.

The entire endeavor took approximately 152 hours. The first two tries were futile, but as John would say “the third time’s a charm.” Sherlock put the finishing touches on the cuffs on Christmas Eve, after John was called into the clinic to diagnose a child who undoubtedly had come down with the latest strain of the flu.

“Perfect timing,” said Mrs. Hudson with a wink as she took the plain box from Sherlock and wrapped it quickly in bright red paper. “Whatever it is, I’m sure he’ll love it, dear.”

Sherlock flexed his hands, feeling the now familiar soreness that came from clutching knitting needles for hours on end, and hoped she was right.

#

Sherlock couldn’t remember being this nervous on Christmas morning since the incident with Mycroft’s pet turtle when he was six. Even as he played his favorite arrangement of Handel’s Messiah, his eyes kept glancing under the tree John had put up to make certain that the gift was still there. John eventually came out of the kitchen bearing tea, his eyes bright. Sherlock abruptly lowered his bow, and made to put his violin away.

“Leaving me high and dry in the middle of the Hallelujah Chorus?” John scolded good naturedly as he handed Sherlock his cuppa.

Sherlock shrugged. “Mrs. Hudson will make me play later tonight.”

“So, presents?” John asked as he turned toward the tree.

“As long as you don’t make me pull on any crackers,” Sherlock mumbled into his tea.

Sinking into his armchair, he watched John pull boxes and gift bags out from under the tree.

“Oi, what’s this one?” John sounded surprised. Sherlock stared at the pattern on his mug. “Did you put this here?”

“Yes,” Sherlock took a sip of the tea, even though it was entirely too hot. He dared a glance at his flatmate.

John was staring at him. “Is it poison?” his voice was completely serious.

“No!”

“Okay. Just checking,” John’s lips curved up into a smile as he tore the paper away. He shook the box before opening it.

_Eyes—Wide. Surprised._

_Eyebrows—Raised. Did not expect gift, as predicted._

_Chest—Increased breathing. Experiencing slight shock and excitement. Or dread._

“Did you…?” John slowly lifted the soft blue jumper from the box, running his fingers over the intricate design. “Is this the…?”

“I did, yes. That is the periodic table,” Sherlock provided.

“Sherlock, I…” John’s eyes met his and blinked slowly. “I don’t know what to…” he looked down at the jumper again, and Sherlock’s heart jumped into his throat.

“I hope you will find it to your satisfaction. I’ve never...well, I-I did quite a bit of research first, naturally, although I wasn’t sure what type of yarn you would prefer. I did an inventory of your current jumpers, but do you know how many types there are?”

“Sherlock—”

“Under natural fibers alone, one must choose from cotton, polyester, linen, sheep wool, alpaca, angora, mohair, llama, cashmere, silk—”

“Sherlock—”

“—camel, yak, possum, qiviut, cat, dog, wolf, rabbit, buffalo, turkey or ostrich feathers, bamboo, hemp, corn, nettle, soy—”

“Sherlock!”

The detective swallowed the rest of his rambling sentence and realized that a smile had bloomed over John’s face.

“You made this for me?”

“Yes.”

“I love it.”

Sherlock set his tea down. “You...you do?”

“It’s perfect. The best present I’ve gotten in a long time.” John’s grin was catching, and Sherlock felt tugging at his own lips.

“Well, then...Merry Christmas, John.”

“Merry Christmas, Sherlock.”

 

 


End file.
